Ghost in the Graveyard
by radha24-Dusty's apprentice
Summary: What happens when Halt effectively dares Gilan to stand on the graveyard at midnight? Lots of fun and chaos! I suck at summaries. A three-shot that I just updated!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, everyone! *ducks at thrown rotten vegetables* Yes, yes, I'm sorry that I haven't updated in a while. I'll get around to those stories, I **_**promise!**_** It's just that high school is basically killing my life, and I don't have time to update as much.**

**That being said, I have a Halloween treat for y'all! Yes, for the first time ever, I'm writing about an incident in Gilan's apprenticeship. *shakes her finger at Dodo123* It's all your fault, Dodo! Your Gilan obsession is catching! **

**So then . . . without further ado . . . enjoy, and Happy (belated) Halloween! (or All Hallow's Eve . . .)**

O.O O.O O.O O.O O.O O.O

Gilan was bored beyond belief. Halt was making him study his geography, when it was a beautiful day outside. And soon it would be winter, which would make it even harder to spend time outside. Why couldn't they spend time doing something _interesting_ instead?

Of course, he would have never expressed this thought out loud to his mentor because he knew the reply would be something along the lines of "If you're leading a troupe of cavalry, it would be important for them to know about a stream in the middle, right?"

So for now, he was stuck inside, trying to memorize information that he considered utterly useless. At least at the moment. He knew he might thing otherwise if he ever had to put it into practice, but that moment was far from his mind right now. All he could think about was the colorful leaves falling outside, and the slight breeze blowing through the trees, making them whisper.

O.O O.O O.O O.O O.O O.O

Halt could tell that his apprentice's mind was wandering, and it didn't take much to guess what he was thinking about. The Ranger decided that it was time to change the subject, wondering if he was getting too sympathetic towards his apprentice.

"Gilan, that's enough of that. Let's move on to some culture and history."

Gilan gave his mentor a puzzled glance, but he was too glad to study a new topic. He sat forward, and looked at the Ranger expectantly.

"I'm going to tell you a story." Halt began "It regards an event that is happening tonight. Do you know what it is?"

"All Hallow's Eve . . . right?" Gilan answered.

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Uh . . . telling you. All Hallow's Eve." He tried to make his voice sound more confident.

Halt nodded. "Do you know that graveyard just outside of the castle boundaries?"

Gilan suppressed a shudder, but his body language didn't escape his mentor's eye. "Yes."

"Well, some say that it is haunted by ghosts and ghouls and things of that nature. There's even a legend that if you stand by a grave at midnight, the body will reach up and grab you, dragging you down with it."

"That's crazy! There's no such thing as ghosts."

"Really?" Halt said, raising an eyebrow at his apprentice's prompt answer. "Then would you like to go and prove it wrong?"

"Prove it? Why would I want to—I mean, is it really necessary?" Gilan didn't really like where this conversation was going, but he didn't want to seem scared. After all, if he was to be part of the Ranger Corps, protecting all of Araluen, he could hardly afford to be afraid of ghosts.

"Well, I've been noticing that you think that this studying is rather boring," one look forestalled Gilan's word of protest, "so I thought that this might be a nice way to . . . provoke more enthusiasm."

"But really, it's fine, Halt. I think we all know that there are no ghosts. There's really no reason to prove it."

At this point, Halt decided to play on his apprentice's pride a little. "You're not _scared_ are you? Because, if you're scared, I understand totally. I'll just let Sir David know that his son is afraid of nonexistent supernatural apparitions."

As he had expected, Gilan began to panic. "Dad? No—no, you don't need to do that. I'll go. I'll go to the graveyard at midnight, and stand there, and prove that there's no ghosts in the graveyard."

"Are you sure? Because if you're scared . . ."

"No, no, I'm fine, really!"

"Very well. You'll go to the graveyard at midnight, and be standing on a grave right at that hour. You'll stab your sword into the ground when you're there, just so that I can make sure that you actually _did_ do everything you said you would. And then, once midnight has passed, you can come back. Assuming that nothing drags you underneath, of course."

Gilan gulped, and replied in a weak voice. "Yes . . . that sounds about right."

Halt smiled inwardly. This was going to be a whole lot of fun.

O.O O.O O.O O.O O.O O.O

**Okay, so this was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but in the interest of time, and because I don't want it to be like, November 5****th**** or something before I'm finished, I'm just putting up the first chapter. I hope you guys liked it! Remember the blue button that says "Review this story"!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh gosh! How time flies! It's been so long! I really need to get this together, don't I?**

**Well, without further ado, here's the next chapter**

**O.O O.O O.O O.O O.O O.O**

It was time.

Gilan had tried to delay this moment as long as possible—a fact that he hadn't hid as well as he thought. Halt was fully aware of his apprentice's fear, but he found it more than a little amusing, so he was content with letting Gilan suffer. It was payback for all the times Gilan had completely ruined his day.

"You know, you really should leave now." Halt commented as Gilan sharpened his sword for what seemed like the thousandth time, then couldn't resist adding his next comment. "As far as I've heard, swords aren't much use against ghosts. Apparitions have no solid structure."

He watched Gilan attempt to suppress a groan which came out as more of a strangled squawk. "Halt…if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were doing all of this simply for the fun of it."

Halt hid a smile at how close his young companion had come to the truth. He raised an eyebrow in mock shock. "Me? Doing something for "the fun of it"? I don't think that is possible!"

"That is why I said 'if I didn't know any better', Halt."

"But that's the shocking part. You really _don't_ know any better!"

Gilan gave his mentor a withering look. It seemed like he was having way too much fun with this. He was going to get back at Halt for this…

'If_ you ever come back.' _A small voice in his head said, but Gilan pushed that thought away. He was being ridiculous, now! _Everyone_ knew that there was no such thing as ghosts!

'_Or _are_ there…'_ That annoying little voice was coming back again. It wasn't doing anything to help his self-esteem. In fact, it was hurting it…badly.

"Well, now, you don't have all day!" Halt's voice cut into his reverie. "Or all night, I should say. It is almost midnight, and you should probably get there as early as possible so you can get comfortable with your little…ah, friends. Talk to them about not murdering you horribly and all that."

Gilan didn't know what was worse—Halt's annoying comments or the prospect of going to the graveyard. He straightened out his cloak, sheathed his sword, made sure his belt was tight, and then walked towards the door, making his decision. "Bye Halt. See you later!"

"If you ever come back, that is." Halt replied, knowing he was echoing the boy's own thoughts.

Gilan decided to make no reply to this comment. He knew this could go on until it really _was_ midnight. Instead, he strode out the door, keeping up the illusion of confidence, until he was sure he was out of sight of the cabin. Then, his pace slowed to more of a reluctant shuffle.

_I really _don't_ want to do this. _Gilan thought, with a sigh. _But I have no choice. I can't afford to back out of this and act like a chicken. If Halt really told Father, it would be horrible!_

But would it really be worse than dying…or worse? Gilan shook his head, forcibly. This argument with himself was pointless. It would not help anything, and it certainly wasn't making the time pass by faster, either.

As the day had progressed, turning into night, the weather had turned stormy. A light rain had fallen for a few hours, enough to make the ground muddy. Now, however, the wind tore through the tree branches, and thunder rumbled in the distance.

_Just my luck_. Gilan thought, sullenly, as he raised his boot to clear off the mud clinging to it. He trudged through the uneven terrain, finally making his way to the rows of gray tombstones. With the moonlight blocked by storm clouds, it looked even darker than on an ordinary night. He stepped inside, cautiously, ears attuned to even the slightest noise, and proceeded at a pace which ordinarily would have bored him.

Boredom was the last thing on his mind right now, however. A branch creaked next to him—but was it really just a tree? Was that howling wind caused by a ghost? The noise of thunder, getting closer and closer, could just as easily be an army of spirits gathering to capture him. All the scoffing that he had done in Halt's cabin, in the light of day, seemed be a distant memory. In this forsaken graveyard, alone with the dead, it was easy to imagine that ghosts were real.

Gilan somehow made it the gravestone in the very center of this horrible place. He was already quite frightened, but he had made it this far. All he had to do now was wai—

"_**Gilaaaaan…**__" _A voice whispered, suddenly. He started, then shook his head. It was just the wind. There was only silence. He must have just imagined it.

"_**Gilaaan…why don't you join us?" **_There it was, again! The voice, so quiet that it seemed to be coming from inside his head, yet he knew something else was making it. "_**We're oh, so lonely, and we'd love to have a young one like you. Come, it will be fun!"**_

"NO!" Gilan yelled, suddenly, his voice sounding way too loud in the surroundings. "I'm not afraid of you! Go away!"

Silence fell again, but suddenly, a brilliant flash of lightning nearly blinded him. In the instant that the world was lit up, he saw a white figure beckoning him, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Then, the loud clap of thunder set his ears ringing, and in that instant he wanted nothing more than for this whole thing to be over.

Then, it started to rain. But this wasn't a light rain. It was torrential downpour. Every minute seemed like an hour, as he was now soaking wet and kept seeing the white figure. It would dart between gravestones, then disappear into the darkness. But it always came back, and it always seemed to want Gilan to follow it. But he was going nowhere. He knew he just had to complete his task, and then he could return to the cabin. He wasn't about to follow some ghost.

After what seemed like years, Gilan finally figured that midnight had passed. Even if it hadn't, he knew that Halt was probably sitting warm in the cabin. A few minutes wouldn't matter to him. A rueful glance crossed his face. He was _definitely_ going to get back at his mentor for this ordeal.

With these thoughts in mind, Gilan went to stab his sword into the ground—and nearly dropped it as he heard the voice again.

"_**You have not listened to the summons…Gilaaaan. You have angered our ruler, you have slighted his authority! Now you can never leave!"**_

The rustling in the trees grew louder, the lightning more bright, and the white figure appeared again, but much closer than it ever had been before. Gilan, terrified by the whole experience, stabbed his sword into the ground, and began to run.

Only, he couldn't.

It was as if hands were tightening around his neck. He couldn't breathe, and he couldn't get away, either.

"Halt!" He cried out, desperately. "Halt, help! They're going to kill me!"

Air was being driven out of his lungs, as the grip grew tighter and adrenaline forced him to breathe harder. Suddenly, he tripped, and hit his head on a gravestone.

And it all went black.

**O.O O.O O.O O.O O.O O.O**

**Oooh…poor Gilan. I wonder what happened to him. Don't worry, he isn't dead, though. I'll try to write the last bit soon!**


End file.
